Mustn’t cry. Mustn’t give her the satisfaction.
‘Just as well,’ I said stiffly. ‘Staying here was never an option for me, imagining you here, seducing Zak in our bed. You know, I had a mum come over to me in the playground today. Her son wants April to go to tea. She was genuinely friendly. Not just being nice so that one year on she could steal my husband.’
‘That’s quite an accusation,’ she said, her stilted tone returning.
I shook my head. ‘More like a statement of fact. As for selling up, that’s quite a commitment. You could lose everything.’
She stared at me for a moment and then her shoulders moved up and down. ‘And that’s the difference between us,’ she said, quietly. ‘I’ll take risks and do anything to get what I want. It’s the thing Zak likes most about me. Life is short. My mum’s death when I was fifteen taught me that. I’m sorry, Jenny. You know I like you but I won’t apologise for being driven.’
‘Are you for real?’ I shouted, unable to control my tone. ‘Did your mum also teach you to doggedly follow your dreams without a thought for other people’s lives?’
‘I don’t believe anything can be broken unless it’s already cracked,’ she replied, calmly. ‘If your marriage had been airtight, I wouldn’t have been a threat. I understand your anger, but maybe you should think about that.’
Her voice held no venom. She just spoke like a teacher who was passing on a few undisputed facts. An emptiness filled the pit of my stomach. I shifted from foot to foot. Was that a small wave of admiration I felt, for this mistress in front of me, who knew what she wanted in life and went for it, one hundred per cent?
‘All marriages go through rough patches,’ I snapped. I needed to get control of my emotions, of my tone. It was time to be adult, even though I felt like throwing my toys out of the pram. ‘You of all people know that. But, Chanelle …’ I lifted my hands in the air. ‘It’s true that you and I never shared our deepest secrets, but I still thought we were friends.’
She stared at the floor for a moment.
‘Weren’t we?’ I persisted, suddenly feeling like a friendless child in a playground.
She looked up. ‘All right. If you want the truth. From the moment I first saw Zak, well before April started at Oakwood Towers, my mind was set. He’s everything I want. Handsome. Ambitious. Supportive. We have the same goals. I am sorry, but you only live once and I wasn’t going to miss my chance to get close to him.’
‘Just like that. Cold and clinical – using me like some pawn?’ So my suspicions were right. Had I been worth so little to her? My stomach caved in, as if she’d kick-boxed my navel. Yet I also stared at her with curiosity, annoyed to find myself marvelling at how she’d set and achieved such a long-term goal. ‘How did you do it? How did you get close to him?’
‘We used to share the same solicitors. I turned up for an appointment about my divorce half an hour late, due to bad weather and a traffic jam. Brolly up. Dripping wet. I collided with him. We got talking. He made me take his appointment – let me go in first. Said he could work on his laptop whilst he waited. And, to be honest, I’ve always loved Elite Eleganz’s clothes – loved the concept of selling top fashion at low prices. The clothes are sexy. I wished my husband had been half as on-trend as the director of a company like that.’
She fiddled with her gold watchstrap. ‘As for you and me – our friendship … We got along, didn’t we? But …’ She shrugged. ‘I have lots of friends, Jenny. But a true meeting of minds, that only happens once in a blue moon. I lost Mum. Then my first husband. I don’t intend on losing Zak.’ She stood taller. ‘Skye and I will move in here. When April visits at the weekends she will, of course, be made to feel every bit part of our lives.’
‘Who are you?’ I cried. ‘Because you aren’t the woman I’ve known for the last twelve months.’ To my surprise, I felt a degree of sympathy for her tough childhood. And for the lack of moral compass – the way she could justify deceiving a friend, with no conscience.
As if she’d heard that last thought, her face reddened and she said, ‘I’m not a monster, Jenny. I know you think me trivial and that’s why we’ve not got to know each other intimately, but the truth is, I’ve gone out of my way to avoid a deep relationship with you because right from the off I felt guilty. Honestly. I didn’t want you confiding your problems and secrets in me, when I had feelings for your husband. So I’ve always tried my hardest to keep things between us more … superficial.’
‘Mission accomplished,’ I said and stared at her, feeling empty inside, as if my stomach were a vacuum filled with nothing but immaterial hurt.
‘And anyway …’ her lips pursed ‘… I’m not the one who signed a certificate of commitment to you, nor said vows in church. All I’ve done is give Zachary something he wasn’t getting from you.’
‘But what about April?’ My voice broke. ‘You’ve wrecked her home life. Doesn’t her happiness mean anything to you?’
Chanelle’s eyes shone. ‘Yes. I am sorry about that. From my heart. She’s a special little girl. I hope she can forgive me at some point.’
My brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s hardly spoken to me since starting at Laventon Primary. Last weekend we went out for a meal and I got blanked. April told Skye afterwards that I’d stolen her dad; that I’d hurt her mummy and she wanted to know if Skye would ever hurt her like that.’ Chanelle gave a wry smile. ‘Apparently Skye swore on Prada’s life that she never would put a smelly boy before a friend.’ She sighed. ‘I explained to Skye later that I really loved Zak – and that sometimes, love makes you do things that are difficult. She didn’t say much. Guess this is the start of opening her eyes to the fact that parents aren’t perfect.’
‘Welcome to the club. April blames me for all this: us moving out, changing schools.’
Now Chanelle’s brow knitted – as much as it could, frozen as it was with Botox. ‘Really? You wouldn’t think it from what Skye says. April rang her this week and said you’d had a hair break-over.’
‘A what?’
‘Celebrities call it that – when a woman breaks up with a guy, she gets a hair makeover. Hilary Duff dyed her hair blue after filing for divorce. April told Skye that you never cried but had chopped off all your hair, so she knew you were in a bad place. And whilst it was a shock, April said she thought you were kind of cool for taking the plunge. She’s also been texting Zak less.’
I thought back to Wednesday night, after my haircut. When I went up to the loft room, and how, for the first time, April had talked about Zak being the one at fault.
‘Nothing to do with me.’
‘Zak said it wouldn’t be,’ she said, slight jealousy in her voice, and stared at me for a moment. ‘You look years younger with that new style. It’s not some feeble attempt, is it, to win Zak back? Because I’m telling you here and now –’
‘Hardly! You’re welcome to him,’ I scoffed. ‘I’m moving on.’ I stared at her, feeling unnerved at the thought that you could know someone for a year but not really know them at all. Was I also wrong about Elle and Noah? The people in the village who were becoming friends? Martini? Tom’s mum? Was I such a bad judge of character? I pursed my lips. No. I would not let her ruin my future relationships. Chanelle was a cold, calculating one-off. The new people in my life were openhearted, honest, and warm.
She smoothed down her hair. ‘So, can I help you with anything? I thought you worked all day. Has Noah given you time off?’
I glanced at my watch. Urgh. I hadn’t got long left.
‘I won’t be in the loft long,’ I muttered and headed upstairs, hardly focusing as I put one foot in front of the other. I pulled down the loft ladders and climbed up. I sat on the wooden floor, among cardboard boxes, and tears hung in the corners of my eyes. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have given my trust and loyalty away to such an undeserving person?
I covered my eyes with my hands, a habit I
’d developed over the last month or so – and gave the quietest of sobs. Then sniffed. Breathed in deeply. Let my hands fall. No. Chanelle wouldn’t make me take a step backwards. If she could get what she wanted, then so could I. Except my goal wasn’t someone else’s husband; it was a happy, meaningful life for me and my little girl.
I glanced at the box next to me. ‘Baby things’. Carefully I stood up and tore off the sealing tape. I reached in and pulled out a small blue bunny. A smile broke across my face. Zak’s mum had bought that, determined that girls shouldn’t be preconditioned just to like pink. Grief punched me suddenly, in the pit of my stomach. Grief for the life and love I’d lost. I buried my face into the bunny and breathed in nappy cream smells. It took me back to the excitement of April’s first smile, first steps … The first I never saw coming was getting a divorce.
With a gulp, I put the toy back and realized I would have to return at some point to retrieve many treasured possessions. For now, I needed to find my sketches. Not a difficult job as Zak had stored everything in boxes, and organised them alphabetically. I headed to J for Jenny and dug in, finding a file marked ‘college stuff’.
I was just about to make my way down, when I passed the end of the alphabet and a box marked ‘Wedding Dress’. My stomach twisted. I picked it up and let it slip down the ladders, then I climbed down, my box of sketches under the other arm.
When I reached the bottom, I surveyed the top floor of the house. Next time I visited it would probably have a completely different decor. Heart thumping, I went into the main bedroom. I looked at the walk-in wardrobe; remembered how big it had seemed when I first moved in. My attention then turned to the TV and I thought back to all the nights Zak and I would lie in bed together, watching old movies. Or rather Zak working on his laptop and me half watching the film and half reading.
But it had been comfortable, and those evenings had usually ended with us –
I turned away and left the room. Next I went into the spare room and recalled the times Mum and Dad had visited. Across the landing we’d shouted jokes to each other and Mum had raved over the new remote control blinds.
I peeked into the bathroom, saw the large wet area with a tall shower and free-standing bath. During our first years of marriage Zak and I had often bathed together, accompanied by lit candles and glasses of champagne. Rapidly I blinked. I loved the coffee and cream tiles. Chanelle would probably strip them off for something more striking. I didn’t go into April’s room to say my goodbyes. That was probably the one place in the house that wouldn’t change for a while. Instead I carried the boxes downstairs and placed them by the front door.
With a sigh of relief I noticed out of the hallway window that the red four-by-four had gone. So I headed into the kitchen, only passing through. It had never been much of a family room and had been run tightly by Dot. Instead I went out of the back door and squinted in the midday sun.
April and I were lucky. Noah was right – rain was not forecast so our camping evening would be on. I gazed at the borders which, to my shame, I’d made little contribution to. Why hadn’t I taken an interest in gardening over the years? Because it had been too easy to let Dot’s husband do all the work? Whenever my parents had visited they’d made suggestions for new plants. Instead, my free time had been organising another charity bash, ferrying April around, or meeting people I didn’t really know for lunch.
I closed my eyes for a second and breathed in floral smells, letting sunrays warm my face. My shoulders relaxed. Then I walked down towards the adorable summerhouse for one last look inside. I pulled open the door and … gasped.
Gone were the wicker chairs and floral cushions. In their place were two purple beanbags. The walls had been painted gold and were covered in mirrors. An open cabinet displayed row after row of nail varnishes. There was a little silver table bearing a pile of glossy magazines. And in a corner stood a cabinet full of glasses and cocktail stirrers. Above it hung a sign saying ‘Girlz Only’.
A sob rose in my chest as I hurtled outside and took refuge under the willow tree. My lovely little reading summerhouse had been turned into some sort of glitzy beauty parlour. I bit the insides of my cheeks and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I was done. The Willows was definitely no longer my home.
Once back in my car, I took out my phone and texted Noah. Said I’d be a little late. Something had come up. Sorry. I’d make up the time. Then I drove the longer way back to the cottage, stopping off at the tip. I pulled up at the office when I entered, jumped out and asked if they had a pair of scissors. Then I headed to the general refuse area and removed the wedding dress box from the car boot.
I carried it over to the dumping area and tore off the sealing tape. I threw the cardboard box on top of the other rubbish and held the dress. People walked past, shooting me curious looks. I didn’t care. Think of me what you like. I was done with worrying about being judged by others.
I swallowed, thinking back to my wedding again and how different this traditional dress was to the quirky outfit I’d always imagined I would wear. It represented everything about the way in which I’d changed, being married to Zak. And what had that all been for? Zak had thrown it away for a two-faced woman who only looked out for herself.
Well, I was also good at throwing things away. I sniffed, opened the scissors, and cut off both of the arms. They wafted down in the breeze and landed on top of all the other worthless rubbish. My chest became less tight and my pulse slowed. The knots in my stomach unravelled. No doubt some of that junk had once, like my dress, meant something. I looked around the tip at piles of various items – the discarded memories people had jettisoned. Books. Shoes. Bikes. Ornaments. So much of our lives had become disposable. Including me. Thing was, like all those objects, I could be recycled and had every intention of coming out the other side as a stronger, more durable Jenny.
I continued to cut the dress into smaller pieces. When the last section landed in the tip an uplifting sensation filled my chest. Maybe I was disposable to Zak, but April still needed me. And customers would be waiting. Buttercup needed checking on. I straightened my shoulders and got back into the car.
The time had come to get on with building a new life.
Chapter Thirteen
I arrived back at the coffee shop and made my way inside. I left my box of sketches in the car; I just wanted to get to the bedroom and digest my confrontation with Chanelle. Without thinking, I hurried through the shop instead of our private entrance and only acknowledged Noah and Elle with an automatic smile. From the kitchen, I spied Martini out in the back garden, eating a sandwich. I bit my lip and ran the tap. I filled a glass with cold water and took a large glug.
Deep breaths.
So my old home was being deconstructed. No matter. It wasn’t as if I was ever moving back.
Footsteps. I looked up. Noah stood in the doorway.
‘Jenny? Everything okay?’ asked that sunny, honey-toned voice.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ I said and, hand shaking a little, put down the glass. He strode over and held my shoulders firmly.
‘What’s the matter?’ His brow wrinkled. ‘Your eyes look red.’
‘Nothing.’ I shook him off and hurried towards the foot of the stairs leading to the loft. Somehow he appeared at my side and took my hand. He led me into the lounge.
I pulled away again. ‘Leave me alone, Noah. Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I just need some space.’
He stood back. ‘Okay. I understand that. But I’m here if you need me. Remember, we’re friends, right?’
‘What’s the point in that?’ My shoulders jerked up and down. I was angry that tears had started to stream down my cheeks, as if the shock over my former home’s makeover was only really settling in now. I never used to cry. It seemed like recently I was making up for all the dry years. ‘I thought I knew Chanelle after a year – had a connection, you know? Yet she stabbed me in the back.’
‘I’m not Chanelle,’
he said, firmly. ‘Was she at the house?’
‘Yes.’ I gulped. ‘Redecorating. Before moving in. She admitted that the only reason she befriended me was to get close to Zak. I’ve been a right mug.’
He stepped forward and his tone softened. ‘No you haven’t. All you’ve done is innocently see the good in people. And I can assure you I have no ulterior motive.’
I stared at the floor.
‘Although I did need a new running partner who’d make me realise just how fit I’d become, so don’t blame me if I’m only getting to know you for that reason.’
I looked up and the twinkle in his eye got me. ‘Idiot,’ I mumbled and lunged forward, letting him wrap his arms around me. For a few minutes I blubbered and eventually pulled away and sniffed again.
‘I shall have to wash this shirt now,’ he said and looked at the damp patch on his chest. ‘See? You just aren’t my kind of woman. You should be doing the washing, not making more.’
‘Misogynist!’
He smiled. I managed to smile back.
‘Seriously, though, just be glad you’re a better person.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Right now, what you need is friends, Jenny. So I’m glad we put an end to that … that stuff in the tent. I’m here for you. I’ve been through hard times and I know how important it is to have someone with no agenda by your side.’
Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded. He was right, of course. A romance? Between us? No. I didn’t want that. Of course not. But that kiss … I wiped my eyes.
‘Sorry,’ I said in a voice with just the tiniest wobble. ‘Meltdown over. I’ll get back to work.’ I stood straighter. Get back to rebuilding my life.
‘Take a few minutes. We can manage.’
‘But you’ve been so good to me already, Noah. Offering me a job and accommodation, everything – even letting April have an extra cake each day for her new friend Tom.’
Noah looked puzzled. ‘No. She only asks for one cake. Anyway, don’t feel guilty. I shall have payback next weekend.’
The New Beginnings Coffee Club Page 15